


In Writing

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: I couldn't stop thinking about Veronica's "P.I." desk plate from the new Hulu info. So. Here's some feelings about Private Investigator Veronica Mars, having her own official gun, taser, business card, and desk descriptor.





	In Writing

    “Hey, hon?” Keith called in his favorite daughter and kissed the top of her head good morning. Handing her a once-hot cup of coffee from the place they like across the street, he motioned for her to follow him.  
  
    “What’s first on the agenda today, pops? Philanderers, stalkers, tramps, or thieves?” She took her coffee a little darker and a little hotter these days, but her dad got the two sugars just right and Veronica took a big swig.  
  
    “Can’t start the day without some philandering, I’ve heard that expression someplace,” Keith scratched his head like he was remembering something, and went to his briefcase, Veronica in step.  
  
    Veronica smiled, “I think, who…. Jimmy Dean says that? On those corny wake-up-and-smile commercials.” Mentally trying to task out all the work she had ahead of her for the day, Veronica’s mental to-do list paused when her dad presented her with a little gift box.  
  
    “Before we get _right_ to work, today we have…” Keith readied the box, “What, no drumroll? Here, honey,” pressing it into her hands, Veronica’s mind took guesses as to what this surprise could be.   
  
    “Early morning presents?” She tried not to be skeptical. It was a small, but long, black box, just big enough for a bracelet, or a pen. “I gotta tell ya, it doesn’t _smell_ like a pony,” holding it up to her nose, Veronica felt like a kid for a minute, guessing at her father’s surprise. “Tell the truth, the dementia’s setting in early and you just can’t remember when my birthday-”  
  
   Cut off by her dad’s dramatic frown, Veronica held back a laugh and finally just uncovered the box.   
  
    “Dad…” Veronica ran her thumb over the sleek, enameled letters of her name, next to the capital initials _P.I._ Her very own nameplate, for her very own desk; no longer the secretary, the assistant, the temporary Mars in Mars Investigations. For months after she gave up her life in New York to settle back into her old one in Neptune, Veronica knew her dad was unsure about the move. He saw it as a step back, a regression into her old habits, and a move away from who he wanted his daughter to be. From who she’d become on the east coast. He’d waited for her to regret her decision to stay, and he’d kept waiting.   
  
   “I just thought we should finally make something official around this place,” Keith watched his daughter’s manicured fingers carefully inspect her gift.   
  
    “We’re all about official…” Veronica pulled a brave face, and couldn’t articulate why she was fighting to keep her eyes from tearing up over a fancy nametag. More than her license, her taser, her gun, her businesscard... The desk plaque felt like a big step into becoming the Veronica Mars who would one day take over and run primary on Mars Investigations. Officially. “But _wherever_ will I put it?” She smiled, pretending like the spot on her desk hadn’t been ready for a Private Investigator’s nameplate for years. “Thank you, Dad,” she pulled him into a hug, and then fished for her iPhone in her pocket.  Snapping a picture of her new desk addition with a smile, “To send Logan, later,” she added.  
  
    “I want a copy of that for the scrap book,” Keith pointed to the picture. “I’ll put it next to your babyteeth,” he smiled. It was a _small_ big step, an admission that maybe she was in Neptune for good, and maybe that was alright. He could see it made her happy, and that made him happy, too. “Should we get back to philandering?”   
  
    “See,” Veronica rolled her eyes, “When you say it like _that_ , it just sounds wrong,” she shook her head.


End file.
